A Final Fantasy Story
by Ian Macaraig
Summary: Kris, a young man with origins unbeknownst, enters a tournament in Ivalice to win one of the famed Avyuir blades. The blades were said to be approximately 500 or more and were created by the fallen king Joseph.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Where is he? He does not know where this is. All he can see are shining bits of light towering higher than the clouds. They're like trees somehow, some of them big while the others humungous. But they don't have leaves. They all seem to be encased in some sort of shining metal and concrete. Far away he could hear a weird animal roar. Then he hears metal clashing with metal but unlike the sound of sword clashing with sword. It was loud yet all he could make out of the sound was metal rubbing against metal; like a sword being unsheathed. "That must be one big sword then." He thought. Suddenly, out of no where, he hears a loud crash and he looks to see where it was from. Out from the spaces between two tree-like structures came a massive army of all of the races in the world: bangaa, nu-mou, viera, moogle and human. He hears a bang from the other side and something, a big metal bullet, crashed to where the front line of the army was. He sees a hole where the front line of the army used to be. The army then suddenly fights back shooting arrows and magic back at the source of the bullet. Multiple shouts roared from both ends and a large flying monster, as big as a whole town, come flying across the sky. From its jaws came a huge beam of blue light and the place where he stands suddenly is blazed in blue scorching flame.

"Kris! Kris!" He hears a familiar voice calling his name from somewhere. "Kris! Kris..." He hears it again and suddenly he opens his eyes and the place that was scorched in blue dazzling flame was gone. He was now looking at the posters of his idols: the mighty three. He realizes that he was back in his room and that the whole thing was just a dream. His room looked quite comfortable having only seen a war about to start a few seconds ago. He was still in bed in his pajamas that made him look quite silly as if he was still a child. A breeze was blowing inside through the window and it calmed him down a bit as he closed his eyes to collect his thoughts. "I'm in my room," he says to himself "and I'm not burning in blue flame nor am I in armor about to go into war. There is no huge monster flying on top of me and there are no people here but me."

"Krisss, you'd better wake up! The exam startsss in an hour!" says his uncle Meiyou who enters the room without even a knock. "Change your clothesss quick! There's no time for a bath!" His uncle was a bangaa—Ivalice's physically strongest race. The bangaa are a reptile-like folk that would attack you instantly for any lizard or reptile jokes that they hear from you. They are a proud race especially because of the fact that the second mightiest of the mighty three, Fenrir, was a bangaa. Fenrir wielded the avyuir sword called Fenrir and the coincidence, he says, that his name is the same as his sword was no coincidence at all.

Kris liked Fenrir the least though, he much preferred the human, Soma, who wielded the strongest avyuir of the fallen king Joseph. It was said that the fallen king gave rise to 500 swords that he called avyuir. How they all came to be and how he wielded them all was still a mystery only revealed to the court of the current king Moby. The fallen king's mightiest sword, Ultima, is now currently wielded by Soma. Each month, an avyuir is given to a chosen swordsman who triumphs after a long battle tournament. This month is the last and the 500th avyuir is the reward. It was said that this avyuir was the weakest of the 500 according to the royal mages of king Moby's court. It was wielded repeatedly though by the fallen king together with his 1st avyuir, Ultima. No one from the court could really explain why this is true so they merely explained that this was because of the fallen king's merciful heart.

"Uncle, was it today? I completely forgot!"

"Yesss, it isss today! Now go and change, I'll start the runner downstairsss for you."

As his uncle left the room, he got back into bed. He just couldn't help but feel confused with his dream. He left all of those people on the verge of war and there was even a great flying beast towering in between the two parties. He wonders if he could have done anything for them had he not woken up. Well he probably could, after today is complete, he thought. He knows completely in his heart that the final avyuir will be his. But then he hears the roaring of the magicite inside the runner and he quickly jumps to his feet to change.

He goes down the stairs and finds a piece of toast waiting for him in the kitchen. He grabs it, kisses his uncle on the cheek, (his uncle shows a slight disgust in this gesture by the way) jumps on the runner and drives it towards a towering castle. "The battle tournament..." he thought as he speeds past a couple of young moogles heading the same way. "I'll beat them all even if I die doing it!"

He arrives and as he goes down from the runner, a large slap hits him on the head. "Why the hell are you late?!" cries a voice from behind him. "The tournament is almost starting; I hope you haven't forgotten your promise of us on a hunt together!"

"I haven't, I haven't! C'mon Fran, you could've spared me the damage and just kissed me for good luck." When Fran heard this, she suddenly went berserk and argued with Kris for a while. Fran was a childhood friend of Kris. She was a viera—Ivalice's race of strong females. The viera are a race of female warriors with tall ears that allow them to hear exceptionally and this consequently gives them an edge during missions and hunting. Fran is also the 460th winner of the battle tournament and in her possession is the avyuir called Zanmato. Ever since she won the battle tournament, Kris never stopped training to become a better swordsman than he was before. He never really admitted it but he envied Fran for being so strong and powerful; sometimes he even wished that he was a viera or a bangaa or a nu-mou. At least then, he thought, he would have the special characteristics of each race.

They both stopped arguing when they heard the first bell ring signaling that there was only a short time left for registration. After a breathless sprint towards the registration area, Kris was finally registered and asked to suit up in the waiting room. Fran winked at him as he left and it felt to him as if a sea of nervousness just came rising up to greet him at the waiting room area. "If I don't die winning this tournament, she'd definitely kill me if I lose." He thought.

As he entered the waiting room, he only saw a handful of people. It was weird, he thought, since there were definitely more people last month when he failed his attempt the first time. While he was changing into his battle armor, thinking whether to wear a chain mail or a brigandine, a moogle came up to him. "Hello, kupo!" the moogle spoke. "Have you heard about the rumor this year, kupo?"

"No, I haven't. Is it related to why there are only a few people here?"

"You got that right, kupo. They say that Julius is here to get himself another avyuir, kupo!"

"JULIUS? THE SAME JULIUS WHO WON THE 230th AVYUIR?"

"Yes, kupo, that Julius; Julius the mog knight."

At hearing this, Kris heart sank and saw that the final avyuir was farther away from him than it was before. Why would Julius even want another avyuir? He doesn't even need one more, he thought. Julius was, much like Kris' new friend, a moogle—the mechanics of Ivalice. The moogle race is a race of small cute but sometimes frightfully deadly warriors. They specialize at making the best gadgets and weapons and their inventions can turn the tables to their favor in tight situations. A mog knight is a moogle class that specializes in using the weapons that the moogle race makes for battle. They are a strong and proud race and should always never be underestimated.

"Well, good luck with everything, kupo! I'm leaving now since I don't want to face Julius" said the moogle beside Kris who didn't really notice that Kris looked pale and shocked.

"Okay, thanks." Kris replies barely "I'll see you again, I hope. The name's Kris by the way."

"I'm Montblanc, well, see ya next time kupo!"

And with that, Montblanc leaves Kris shaking in the armor that he put on clumsily. He never realized how much of value this last avyuir is until now. Even if it was rumored the weakest, the last avyuir would still be a weapon that can be unmatched by any of the best weapons out there. He shakes the fear out of his head and remains calm but then, much like the incoming wave from the sea, the fear comes back to him stronger than ever. "1st match will be of Pallanza the bangaa and Kris the human, get ready!" says the announcer in the arena. Kris shivers in his knees and the fear starts tearing him apart. He could still run, he thought, but this was the last and 500th avyuir; he couldn't run now!

Kris stands up, slowly, and walks into the open door as the bright light from the sun blinds him and robs him of his senses. "What am I doing?" he thought, "I could die here if the rumors are true about Julian." But as he thought of this, the crowd roared wildly as he entered the arena. He looked up, hoping to see Fran but she was no where in sight; probably hidden between the tumultuous audiences that seemed to have waited for this battle for over a century.

It was starting and from where he was standing, he thought that this was the end of it all.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

There he was, his enemy—a bangaa probably one and a half times his size. His muscles were protruding out of the tightly fit yellow robe that he had on as he cracked his knuckles. His enemy smiled at him across the room, Kris feared the bangaa at most because one punch from them could actually overwhelm his body in half.

"The rule for the first match will be hand to hand combat. There will be no weapons involved in this match except your body. Magic is allowed." shouts the announcer.

"Great," Kris says, "A fist match against a bangaa, this is my lucky day."

As the bell rings, his enemy takes no time to rest and attacks Kris immediately. With his enemy's fist aimed right at his chest, Kris dodges the attack and jumps backwards, barely avoiding it. Without a moment too soon, Kris was immediately hit by a kick to his right arm. The pain hurt instantly and Kris feels that the attack broke at least one bone in his right arm. The bangaa attacks again and again and all Kris can do is dodge; then suddenly, his enemy smiles and stops attacking. Realizing what this meant, Kris turns back and sees that he was cornered—it was a trap. His enemy lunges with his huge hands forming a clump that seemed like a wrecking ball. Kris moves on instinct and immediately slides forward to where the bangaa was.

"THUNDER!"

Kris shouts as his enemy had his back on him. Then from his left arm he felt the flow of electricity surging pass his body and out into the air towards the large back of the bangaa. It was a direct hit and the impact caused an explosion that filled the air with smoke and dust.

Kris backs off a few steps as the smoke starts to clear. "It was a direct hit," he thought, "no bangaa could have survived a direct magic attack." The smoke clears and he sees the body of the bangaa lying on the dusty floor. But before he could celebrate, the body rises up and stands to his surprise.

"AIR RENDER" cries the bangaa pointing his fist directly at Kris.

Suddenly a strong gust of wind, as if an invisible fist, hits Kris in the chest and sends him flying towards the other end of the room.

"I'm wearing a thunder robe, if you hadn't realizzzed," says the bangaa. "Thisss allowsss me to absorb all electric attack from my enemiesss. Had there never been an explosion, had you not inaccurately hit me but the wall, I would be fine right now. But I'm glad you did and now I'm ready to take you on ssseriously."

At the end of the room, Kris could hardly see at all. His impact on the ground after his few seconds of flight caused the dust to dance wildly in the air covering him from his enemy and his enemy from him. He could hardly breathe as the attack on his chest probably collapsed a few of his ribs. He should never have cast thunder on his enemy but he was glad that his enemy is currently underestimating him—he was a bangaa after all. With the last of his strength, he got up and closed his eyes. He couldn't see anyway, what was the use? He concentrated and filtered the chaotic and endless shouting of the audience.

"KILL HIM!"

"FINISH HIM NOW!"

"LET'S STOP THIS MADNESS AND GET ON WITH THE SECOND ROUND!"

He didn't need those; he was waiting for one voice. He was waiting for the voice that, unlike the crowd, was calm as he was. Then out of no where, he heard it like a whisper from a kitten in the rain.

"To your left, 10 o'clock." Without any hesitation at all, he points his left hand to the air where there was nothing but clouds of dust. He shouts with all his might, as if a prayer spoken out of desperation.

"BLIZZARD!"

And then he feels it. He feels the cold building up from his upper torso into his left arm then into his hand and then finally, like a bullet, shot into thin air. He hears a hit shortly afterwards and a sound, as if something was being frozen really fast came next. He opens his eyes, the dust clears and he sees a large block of ice, a few meters away from him. He walks towards it and examines the block as if there should be something inside. True enough, the bangaa was there, frozen and silent much like the crowd that was before like savage animals on fire. Then he feels the pain once more rushing back to him like a victory surprise party. Kris collapses to the ground, but his face hid a smile that said that he knew that he's won.

"CURE!"

There was a loud shout from somewhere near by but Kris could barely open his eyes. Where is he now, exactly? He doesn't know at all. It's as if he was between two worlds again. Once more he is back in his dream and he sees, again, the huge army of different races attacking furiously at the unseen enemy on the other side. As he opened his left eye keeping his right eye closed, he could make out a faint picture of Fran and a few nu-mou looking back at him. Which one was reality, he no longer knew but he opened both his eyes nonetheless. And he found himself lying in a bed with Fran beside him, crying her eyes out.

"I thought you were a goner," Fran said as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"I thought I was too," he replied and both of them laughed incessantly. "Help me up, I need to see the fight," he said. And Fran helped him up and they exited the room out into an empty hallway. Slowly, as they walked towards the door opposite of where they came, they could hear, once more, the loud and wild noises of the crowd. As they got out into the bleachers of the arena, a huge deafening roar came from the crowd as the nu-mou was able to clobber the moogle with his battle mace. The helmet that was worn by the moogle went flying into the air. And then he saw it; the face of Julius. It was as if the rumors had captured him perfectly: a face hung with multiple battle scars and the largest of them all, a cut that run from his right eyebrow down to his upper lip, was from his supposed battle with Soma, the wielder of Ultima. Julius was the scariest moogle he'd ever seen and this brought his spirits back to the ground. At some point during the battle their eyes met and Kris felt an unwanted feeling deep inside him that stunk like a rotting corpse. Julius' eyes, Kris thought, were so dark and so frightening that he felt the urgent need to run away. Yet in a split second, Julius was back on his feet, lunging immediately at the helpless nu-mou who thought that he'd already won. Julius was merciless and he attacked with such force that even though the first blow was more than enough for him to win, he kept on attacking and attacking the helpless nu-mou. It took four bangaa templars, each probably four times his size to finally seize him and stop him from going berserk.

Then there was only dust and a bloody body in the arena and only silence in the audience that seemed flabbergasted after the whole ordeal. Not even Fran or Kris could muster a word.

As Kris and Fran walked back into the hallway they saw, ahead of them, the body of the helpless nu-mou being attended to by the different medical staff of the arena. Kris and Fran then decided to go back into the waiting room but as they walked towards the door, they heard a sudden commotion coming from inside.

"We're all quitting the tournament and you can't blame us for leaving," says a voice from inside the room.

"Our lives are more precious than any of your avyuirs!" says another.

"We understand what must be going into your heads right now but if you leave, then all of you will be disqualified and Julius will be named the winner," said the voice of the announcer.

"Well what about that bloke who won the firssst round? He'll stay for sure," says the voice of a bangaa. Kris' eyes widened at this comment and he makes a run for the door. Breathless, he gets out of the building and into the runner and speeds it towards the outskirts of the city. He doesn't want to fight Julius. He knows he can't win but why is it that a part of him still wants to go back into the arena and fight?

He stops near a cliff overlooking the city. There were no trees around him, the city was in the center of a great desert and the lands beyond, as far as his eye could see seem arid and scorched by the large sun. He needed to think this through; he wanted to know what he needed to do. He sat down against a rock as he swept his hands over his black sweaty hair. No human in Ivalice had black hair like he does. Everyone there had hair of different colors: green, red, blue and mostly blonde. But not like him, he thought, he was special. But the more he compared his abilities to others the more he thought how ordinary he was. His magic was average, he was taught by Fran who could summon even level three magic. His swordsmanship was only a little above average, this was his reward for the countless of months training to become a stronger swordsman—only a little above average.

He hated the fact that he was not special at all and most of all, he hated the fact that he was human—the most balanced race in Ivalice. He adored the bangaa who was physically strongest or the nu-mou who was magically strongest or the viera who was the fastest and most finely honed. He even adored the moogles who can make great armor, weapons and gadgets that they can use to their advantage. He envied them because someone like Julian can be that strong. But deep inside his heart, he knew that he wanted to be nothing like Julian. He'd rather be the weakest, he thought, than be as evil as that.

He waited more for a few minutes then he sat up and rode his runner back into town as he headed straight for home. When he arrived, he saw another runner nearby; someone must've paid him a visit.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

"Uncle, I'm back!" shouted Kris.

"Krisss, could you come in the kitchen for a moment. I need to talk...oh there you are!" said his uncle as Kris entered the door.

"What's the meaning of this? Why is the tournament announcer here?"

"We jussst need to talk to you, sit down for a while."

And Kris obeyed though a certain look in his eye said that he was unwilling to sit through the whole talk. Kris carefully eyed the announcer. He was a plump human, only as tall as he was. His eyes and his trembling hands say that he's scared. He was as if at the verge of crying but something held him back; a hope perhaps.

"Sir Kris," the announcer finally spoke, "we need y-you to fight in the finals of the tournament. The council thinks that y-you are fit to be the wielder of the final avyuir."

"Sssee Krisss, the council already thinksss you're good enough," his uncle said in a pleased tone, "you ssshould definitely fight in the finalsss!"

"And did he mention that I'm fighting JULIUS—the winner of the 230th avyuir?"

"JULIUSSS? YOU NEVER MENTIONED ANYTHING ABOUT JULIUSSS?" his uncle rises at this statement, motioning as if he was about to clobber the trembling human in front of him.

"But don't worry mister announcer," says Kris and both heads turned to him, "I'm definitely fighting in the finals."

Aghast, both his uncle and the announcer had their eyes widened so much that Kris thought that they would fall out of their sockets. It was funny, he thought, that how this courage came about and where it came from he could not understand. All he knew was that he wanted that final avyuir more than anything.

Kris coolly went up to his room, walking past his frightened uncle and the trembling announcer that looked as if he just saw the fallen king himself. Kris locked his room; he didn't want to be disturbed. He sat in his bed and gazed at the poster of the mighty three. They were his heroes and his inspirations. Once he wins the last avyuir, he thought, he'd join them in combat. With this in mind, Kris closed his eyes and started picturing a glorious battle. Soma, Fenrir and Jasmine (a viera) was surrounded by millions and millions of monsters. They were separated from each other and could not aid one another. Soma was getting the worst of it all; he was surrounded by dragons, lamias and rockbeasts. They surrounded him as he randomly shot spells of firaga, blizzaga and thundaga everywhere. He seemed to be in panic and just when he shot cure to heal himself, a red dragon came blasting fire balls at him. Just when all hope seems lost, Soma covers his eyes and kneels down finally accepting defeat.

"REFLECT!" shouts Kris, aiming his new golden avyuir at the direction of Soma. A magical sphere forms around Soma's body just before the first of the fire balls hit him. The fire balls bounce back and randomly damages a lot of the monsters as they hit the sphere that protects Soma's shaking body.

"You've got to fight Soma, so stand up!" says Kris as he swings his glorious golden avyuir to a blue dragon on the verge of attacking.

"You're right Kris; we've got to make it through this somehow." And Soma stands up, back to back with Kris as they slay the countless monsters coming from all over the place. After a long cut scene in Kris' mind involving countless slashes and moves he'd never seen himself do before, the battle finally finishes as Kris shouts "THUNDAGA," slaying the final remaining monsters.

He opens his eyes finally and walks towards the window. He could not see the arena from here but he could hear it, as if it was calling from beyond time, whispering to him and calling for him to fight. He wanted to do so; his spirits were once more rising to the skies. But there was something else, a different voice that comes from within him. This voice was dark and deep and he realizes that it was his fear beckoning him to simply run away.

"How can I beat someone who can send even the bangaa running for their lives?" he clenches his fist. "I'm just a human after all."

That night, Kris couldn't sleep at all. He hardly knew what was going to happen the next day and he can't stop thinking of a kind of strategy to be Julius. He'd start attacking from the right first, he thought to himself, then from the left. He'd use magic only when it was needed and he'd probably finish Julius with a smack to the back of the head. "This is a good strategy," he kept saying "with Julius' right eye all stitched up, he'd never see me coming from the right." He'd give a small snicker afterwards then suddenly realize that there was a minor flaw in his plan. Kris was like this all night and he couldn't fall asleep because of it. But after a while, he started feeling his eyes getting heavier and sooner than expected, he was asleep.

Shout are coming from everywhere. Where they are coming from he does not know, he thinks to himself. Better yet, from whom are they coming from? Stronger and stronger, these shouts of pain and anguish come and the more he hears them, the more unbearable they become. Then, just when he was in the brink of losing it, a light shines from somewhere and once more he could see the structures that were taller than trees and shone brightly and glittered magnificently in the sun.

He was back in the war but he felt as though it was different somehow. The army of all the races was gone and what was in front of him now was a huge army, one even bigger than the army of all the races, of black armored soldiers. A few distances from where he was standing, he could see machines of enormous size. They were moving and from what he could make out, there were large guns mounted on top of it. One of the machines fired and he soon realized that the large bullet from the last dream came from this machine. The army of black soldiers were shooting bullets and running towards something that he couldn't see. From where he was, he could see bullets and bombs flying over to one direction then arrows and magic coming from the other. The army of all races must be on the other side, he thought to himself.

Then from out of no where, he hears a large earsplitting scream. He looks around but all he could see now were dead bodies, bullets and many things flying about. It was when he heard the same sound again that he looked up and saw the same huge flying monster from before. Once more it opened its mouth and out from it, came a huge beam of blue shining light that exploded when it impacted to the ground. The ground was again blazed in blue flames and countless screams once more transpired. Kris felt himself fall kneeling to the ground. He clutched his face in his hands and panic engulfed his body. He didn't know what to do and he didn't know why he feels guilty for all of this. Once more, the beast screams its earsplitting cry then Kris hears the unsheathing of swords. Before he lost his consciousness from this dream, a word faintly flew to his ear—"activate."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Kris opens his eyes once more. The room that he was in seemed familiar but those that are familiar to him these days are not so familiar anymore. Familiarity, to him, seemed to be a question of reality―which one was true? He sees the poster of the mighty three on a nearby wall and he realizes that he was awake in his room. It was still early; his battle was still far away―but not far enough.

Kris gets up and drags a chair next to the window. The dark sun was high up in the clouds. It lit the streets in a faint dark light. The existence of the dark sun bothered Kris ever since he started noticing it when he was young. Ivalice had two suns: one dark and one bright. The two suns were their basis of time. When Kris was just a little boy in school, he asked his teacher why Ivalice had two suns. "The bright sun strengthened life while the dark sun strengthened death" was always the reply of the teachers from his school. Kris never really understood what that meant and afterwards, he just shrugged it off every now and then when the topic comes to his mind but he noticed that he couldn't do that today. Something was off, he didn't understand what it was but seeing the dark sun right now, there was something dragging him down. There was a burden he could sense but could not see. He felt guilt in a way and he could not understand why. Did he have something to do with the dark sun? Was it something that he did before that made the dark sun the way it is now? So many questions keep popping into his head and so far, no answers for all of them.

He calmed himself and inhaled heavily. Far away he heard runners and he sensed their magicites roaring in activation. Kris rested his chin on the window pane. He allowed the wind to glide through his hair and he felt completely relaxed.

"Kaze (かぜ)" he thought suddenly. It was a word he never even heard of until now but it seems to be the name of the wind. How he knew this and why the word was suddenly brought up in his mind were yet new questions in his unanswered head. It didn't matter, he thought, it was after all a fitting name to the wind. Suddenly from the edge of his eyesight, he saw the bright sun creeping through the mountains that shields Ivalice from the oceans. Its light crept slowly through the land and the bright sun rose proud and high to the sky until any trace of the dark sun was nowhere to be seen. The dark sun was once more ephemeral and though he did not pay notice to it, a small tear was shed from his right eye.

Kris got up from the chair and got ready. The battle was still a few hours from now but he couldn't keep his excitement. Was it foolish, he thought, to be excited when death's face seems to loom so near? It didn't matter. What mattered was that he was ready to gain the final avyuir.

The whole waiting period for the battle seemed fast. Nothing much happened; Kris saw himself getting ready, then going from his house to the arena together with Fran and his uncle Meiyou and then finally entering the door to the waiting room. He got his gear ready and chooses the best looking blade in the locker. He was in front of the door―the final obstacle he needed to overcome before the match. He opened it and what came next was a humungous surprise.

As he came out of the door, the crowd that was still and quiet got up and a huge amount of applause came towards his way.

"YOU CAN DO IT KRIS! WE BELIEVE IN YOU!"

"YEAH GET BACK AT THAT JULIUS AND GET REVENGE FOR THAT POOR NU-MOU!"

Kris was amazed at how the crowd backed him up in this match. He never thought before that he would be supported like this. Once more he felt his spirits rising to the sky and then all of it stopped suddenly. The applause and the greetings of the crowd vanished in an instant. Opposite from where he was standing was a moogle, half his size, in full moogle armor and holding a wooden mace in his right hand. The moogle had a helmet on but Kris could see, from the spaces of the helmet that was left empty for the user to see, a face with a huge scar that ran from the right eyebrow down to the upper lip. The moogle's name was Julius.

Julius seemed a little paler when Kris saw him with his match with the poor nu-mou. He seemed a little red back then, Kris thought to himself. Both Julius and Kris went close to the announcer. Neither one of them spoke nor did anyone in the arena at all for that matter. The silence was broken by a strangely calm and relaxed voice of the announcer. "This match allows the use of all kinds of weapons. Magic is not allowed."

Once Kris hears this, he saw the lips of Julius widening to display a despicable smile. "I kept on thinking on everything last night," Kris thought to himself "but I didn't think of the rules."

Kris hears a bell that announces the start of the fight. He felt like wanting to move his body instantly but it was deeply frozen in fear. He was panicking, if Julius were to attack now it would be all over for Kris. But the weird thing is Julius wasn't moving at all. He was standing still and clutching his weapon really hard. Kris looked at him and it seemed that Julius was also frozen solid. Slowly Kris mustered all of his strength to move. His left leg rose and fell only a few inches from where it originally stood. Kris was able to move again. But Julius was still there, strongly clutching the weapon in his hand as if it was about to fall off any second.

"I knew you'd be in this tournament Kris," Julius spoke "it was the last chance for you to get an avyuir after all." Kris froze when he heard the creepy voice coming out of Julius' mouth. It was deep and the sentence was without a "kupo" at all.

"Who are you? Why and how did you know who I am?" Kris spoke in utter curiosity. Then Kris thought that the names of the candidates were showed to the public after all. Julius must be saying this to confuse him or something; but why is it that he feels that that was not Julius' motif?

"I was sent here to test you," Julius replied "but don't get me wrong. I won't be taking it easy on you."

As Kris was still looking at Julius but paying attention only to what he was saying, he realized only too late that the body of the moogle in front of him started to move―fast. It seemed to be a trap after all and Kris seemed to have fallen for it. Julius leaps into the air and swings full force at the helmet of Kris. If the mace was spiked, the match would have been over and Kris would be dead. But rather, the helmet flew from Kris' head and he flew off as well. Kris hit the ground head on. He felt the warm movement of blood from his forehead. He got up and the blood dripped from his head to the ground. He was panting as if he had been running up to this point. Beside him was his helmet―or what's left of it anyway. Kris saw the smile flash once more on Julius' face and he was suddenly overcome with anger.

Kris lunged at Julius. He was aiming for the ankle but Julius blocked it immediately. Then with unbelievable strength, Kris was flung mid-air as his attack to the ankle was blocked by Julius; it wasn't a block after all, it was a counter-attack. Kris landed a few meters away from where Julius was. He attacked again and again but each attempt was either blocked by Julius or counter-attacked. He felt that all of his efforts were useless. He needed more speed and power but throughout his life, this was the best that he could do. Again he was starting to hate the fact that he was human, but he couldn't do anything about it. The facts are staring him in the face. Julius is far stronger, way faster and more experienced than he was. Since the fight forbade magic, he sees that the possibility of him winning was close to zero.

There was anger boiling up inside him once more. He couldn't help it. He felt useless and weak. He felt unable to get revenge for the poor nu-mou that was brutally assaulted by Julius before. In front of him was the moogle who assaulted his idol, Soma, and all he can do right now to beat him is probably only to stare him to death. He felt so weak it tortured him. How could he fight with the mighty three if he was this weak?

Julius felt victorious at the now immobile Kris. There was anger in Kris and Julius could feel it. This assured him somehow that Kris would finally start to get serious, but in the back of his mind, he was starting to feel an emotion that seemed to have vanished from his reality. It felt weird to Julius and he could not explain it. The emotion was eating him up and he hated it entirely. He's forgotten what it was after all―the emotion called fear.

The crowd was still silent and from where Julius stood, he saw the angry face of a desperate boy. The face seemed dark and engulfed with much anger. "If this boy gets anymore angry, he'd break" Julius thought to himself. Suddenly, the face that he was staring at changed and it was an unexpected change at that. The once dark expression could no longer be seen. What was left on the face was an unexpected smile.

"If I am this weak, all I have to do is get stronger," Kris thought in his mind. "If I am this slow, all I have to do is get faster." Inside of him, he started laughing but he wasn't physically laughing at all. What Julius was still looking at this time was a dark expression. Kris was almost at the verge of insanity. Suddenly, a smile creeps up from his originally dark face. Kris looks at the shocked Julius who was now frozen solid because of fear. Without further hesitation Kris begins his attack.

Kris throws his blade straight at Julius' body. Julius was able to dodge but only minimally. Then from out of nowhere, Julius still in mid-air from trying to dodge the blade, Kris appeared behind him and flung a kick to Julius' back while at the same time stealing the mace that Julius gripped in his hand. As Kris landed on the ground, Julius was then about a few meters above him. Kris tightened his grip on the mace that he now holds and jumped high straight towards Julius. Kris' body stopped only a few inches away from Julius and he gripped the mace with both hands and swung it, like a wrecking ball, straight towards Julius' body. Julius felt the impact on his body at contact. His armor was now shattered to pieces and he was plummeting at an enormous speed to the ground. His body collided with the ground hard as he fell like a stone from the air. Julius felt some of his bones break and he was in such pain that he felt himself feeling a little berserk.

All this time, Kris was thinking to himself that he must be faster and stronger. As his attacks landed all of what he could think of were the words "faster and stronger." After hitting Julius hard mid-air, he felt himself land only a few feet away from where Julius' body was. Was his attack successful? From where he was standing it looks as if it did. He couldn't help but feel victorious now and had he been concentrating, he would have noticed Julius' face get a bit redder; Kris would have noticed that Julius looked more like himself now when he was fighting the nu-mou rather than when he was a bit paler a moment ago. The crowd was about to roar in applause when the seemingly lifeless body of the moogle started to stand up.

It was then that Kris noticed the now red face of Julius. Julius looked at Kris with wild eyes and leaped immediately to attack. Kris had no time at all to dodge; Julius was pounding on every bit of armor that Kris had attached to his body. Kris felt the strong blows of Julius impacting on his body little by little. The armor that he was wearing was of no use now. He felt all of the blows as they came directly to him. With a final attack, Julius sends a strong punch directly to Kris' jaw and Kris went flying across the room. Kris felt himself land hard on the ground. His back was against a wall and he felt dizzy and about to lose consciousness. Kris saw Julius, now holding the mace that Kris clumsily dropped to block the attacks, walking straight towards him. "I'm doomed," he thought, "and for a moment there, I thought I won."

Kris couldn't stand up anymore and Julius was only a few inches from him. Julius held the mace with both hands and was about to strike at full force. He knew it was worthless, his armors were not enough to defend against the now berserk Julius, how could any other effort be any better? Kris closed his eyes and, as if motioning to block the attack, raised his left hand over his head. The full force attack came and Kris heard metal colliding against wood.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

What was happening? It was all such a blur. People have always claimed that on the edge of life, everything flashes back to you in a single second until the time of death was finally at hand. Kris was completely sure that he was going to die and that the great wooden mace of Julius—the seeming harbinger of his death—should have crushed his head in a matter of milliseconds. The blow however, did not come.

Kris opened his eyes. Kris saw that Julius was simply standing in front of him even though he was half expecting that Julius was still coming straight towards him. The moogle's eyes were wide open as if he'd seen a ghost. Slowly the left arm of Julius rose into the air—he was admitting defeat. Kris was still sitting down on the ground when the referee came towards them.

"What's wrong?" The referee asked; the man showed a bewildered look as if deeply trying to understand something. "Are you forfeiting?"

With a trembling voice Julius replied, "I am…kupo."

Kris was aghast. He had permanently placed in his mind that Julius was evil and his "kupo-less" sentences were somehow testament to that. But to hear him say the word now was utterly terrifying. What had happened? What was going on?

The referee walked slowly towards Kris. Kris was still utterly bewildered by what had just taken place that he took no notice of the referee gripping his right hand. It was when the referee yanked Kris from where he was sitting that he finally realized what the referee had done. The referee, by now holding Kris' hand into the air, announced to the crowd that Kris had won the last avyuir. Kris stared at the referee and then his eyes shot directly to the silent crowd. As if his stare was a trigger, the crowd roared instantly in applauses and shouts. There were people flinging their helms to the air and when Kris shot his glance towards the open ceiling of the arena, multiple fireworks were exploding in the sky. Kris' eyes fell to the fleeing figure of Julius who was now about to exit the arena into the waiting room.

"WAIT!" Kris shouted towards Julius. Kris ran towards the figure of Julius who stopped momentarily on his way through the exit.

"What?" Julius remarked with an irritated look; the look of shock however was not totally gone from his face.

"What just happened? Why did you forfeit?"

"You mean to say you didn't know what happened?"

"No, I didn't even do anything." At this remark Julius suddenly eyed Kris with utter suspicion. Julius finger pointed to a far wall in the arena. Kris followed where the finger pointed and was suddenly flabbergasted. Protruding from the wall was his blade and the blade seemed to have skewered the wooden mace of Julius towards the wall as well. The blade seemed to have pierced the mace on the middle of the handle.

"The damned thing almost cut my hand off," Julius said. "It grazed the bottom of my right hand." Julius held out his right palm and Kris saw a reddening below Julius' pinky.

"What exactly happened?" Kris said, the crowd was still roaring with utter delight. Just before Julius could speak up, the referee came up to Kris and told him to receive the final avyuir in front of the crowd.

"Meet me in the fallen cottage near the outskirts of town when the dark sun is at its peak," said Julius in a bit of a muffled voice. "We need to talk." Kris nodded in reply.

The referee was leading Kris towards the middle of the arena when Kris saw that Julius then proceeded to exit the arena once again. Kris glimpsed Julius sitting inside the waiting room just before he and the referee were near the center.

Kris saw the referee look up towards a huge box on top of the crowd. The referee gave a nod and then trumpets suddenly blared into existence. Kris saw the crowd pointing and then bickering. Kris saw the referee turn around and he immediately followed. Kris saw that a portion of the arena was slowly being revealed. A huge box of glass, similar to the wooden box that the referee looked at earlier, was slowly being lighted from the inside. Kris had not noticed this part of the arena before, simply because the box was so well covered and concealed that it looked like a part of the wall of the circular room of the arena. Kris saw at least twenty people inside the box of glass. He was able to recognize all of them!

He noticed that almost all of the people inside the glass box were sitting in throne like chairs. Of the twenty he could clearly see, he recognized that sixteen of those people were knights and priests and mages of king Moby's court—all of them, wielders of avyuir! What was more shocking was that the mighty three themselves were there as well! He saw Fenrir glaring at him with utter astonishment, the face of Fenrir seemed all too excited and anxious. He also saw Jasmine whispering to the ear of a blank faced Soma. But the biggest shocker of all was that king Moby himself was in there as well! He was adorned with beautiful rings and an emerald gilded cloak. He wore the famed jeweled crown of the fallen king Joseph and he had a scepter in his left hand and a sheathed sword in his right. Kris became more amazed when he saw that king Moby seemed as similarly interested in him as Fenrir.

King Moby rose up from his throne like chair; he left the scepter on the chair but was carrying the sheathed sword with both hands, his beautiful emerald cloak was gracing the dirty floor. Instantly king Moby vanished and appeared instantaneously beside Kris. Kris let out a gasp when he realized that the king himself had teleported—a feat that only possible with the intense power and skills of a masterful time mage! King Moby patted Kris' back and he led Kris to slowly face the crowd. Before he could completely turn, Kris saw Soma leave his chair and exit out of the glass room. It hurt Kris to see how Soma, his ultimate idol, seemed to be uninterested.

The crowds were still applauding with all of their strength; apparently, the appearance of king Moby seemed to energize all of them with renewed fervor. King Moby turned to face Kris.

"As your king," king Moby shouted over the screaming crowds, "I and my court have come to bear witness to the claiming of the final avyuir." The crowd instantly fell silent as King Moby looked deeply to Kris' eyes. "Kris, I present to you the final avyuir and thusly you are knighted to be a part of my court. The final avyuir, Lilia, is now yours."

The king unsheathes the sword and holds it firmly in his right hand while pointing it to the air. The crowd screams wildly than ever before and Kris can see the glinting obsidian-like blade of the sword. The sword had rich flowery carvings across its blade and all were painted with an iridescent crimson color. The hilt of the sword shone beautifully in gold and it had a guard adorned with crimson and black green jewels.

_Kris._

A voice was suddenly ringing in Kris' ear. The voice was mellow and sounded like a delicate female voice; it gave Kris the impression of beautiful wild flowers.

_Kris._

It cried again but this time it was fainter. Kris shook his head, unable to understand how he could understand a whisper despite the backdrop of the roaring crowd. When the voice did not come a third time Kris' looked at king Moby astonished as the tall man of probably 6 and a half feet tall was handing him the hilt of the sword. Kris slowly reached for the hilt of the sword feeling a little shaken with all of the commotions. In the instant that Kris touched the hilt, he felt a sudden surge of energy from the sword towards all over his body. It felt as if a weak thunder spell was cast directly from the sword and towards all of his limbs. He felt a bit energized and tingly, as if the sword gave him some sort of new power.

_Kris._

The voice came again, this time the voice was louder and clearer than the shouts of the crowd. The voice no longer seemed like a whisper. Kris did not let the voice bother him so much; something inside of him knew that it was the sword that was talking to him—it was the voice of Lilia. Kris gripped the handle with all of his strength and raised the sword from the hands of king Moby, the weight of it seemed too light for its size and structure. Instantly, as if the voice of the avyuir was no more, the crowd roared their loudest cries yet and Kris could see smiling and even crying faces all around him.

King Moby turned to leave and Kris glanced that Fenrir was the only person inside the glass box.

"You will need to be formally knighted," said king Moby as he passed by the side of Kris, "I will have one of my knights take you to the castle the day after tomorrow. Also, you are required to undergo a year of training so that you wield this avyuir with efficiency and justice, will that be alright?"

Kris nodded unable to conjure words from his chaotic mind. During this instant, Kris realized that he was happy, sad, confused, frightened and excited at the same time. What was happening?

After king Moby left Kris got out of the arena to meet his uncle Meiyou. Everything seemed like a blur to Kris and he seemed unable to talk very much because of what recently happened. The travel back to the house was uneventful and the dark sun was nearly rising when Kris got to his senses.

What had happened? Kris realized that he had been blankly staring at the crimson patterns of the avyuir. The blade was slightly covered by a cloth that prevented contact between Kris' hands and the blade. With his left hand, Kris grabbed the hilt of the sword and a sudden gush of senses flooded him. Random pictures, any of which Kris could not remember afterwards, flashed instantly in his mind. It was after the flash of pictures that Kris heard the voice come again.

_Kris, I am glad to be by your side. I am the avyuir Lilia and I will do your bidding and protect you as you please._

"How can you talk?" said Kris but he never felt his mouth move, only that he visualized the words coming out of his mouth as if he was really going to say them.

_Very few humans are gifted with the understanding of entities and your ability to communicate with me is a very rare gift indeed. With regards to your question, I guess the simplest explanation is that I am an immortal being, forever allowed to be materialized into this world so long as I am this blade._

"Who are you, really?"

_As I have made it clear before, I am Lilia—the avyuir you hold in your hand._

"Are you something like a ghost that haunts this blade? Is this blade cursed?"

A long pause ensued and Kris started to get the feeling that he had offended Lilia in an unconscious way.

_This blade is not cursed; if anything, it has been graced with my presence. I am like you, body and spirit, except that my body is this blade. Long ago, King Joseph fought a mad wizard named Jason who was once his friend and ally. Both of them are not of this world and therefore magic had a different way of obeying and acting upon them. They were both very powerful but the mad wizard Jason cast an evil spell that turned all of his soldiers and followers into magical staffs. When Jason fought Joseph, it was on the outskirts of my town. Joseph was drastically outnumbered with all of the magical staffs obeying Jason and amplifying his power. Joseph tried desperately to shield the town and protect the people but most of spells and attacks of Jason came right through and killed nearly half of the townspeople. With the desire to protect those who were still living, the spirits of the fallen townspeople begged Joseph to use the evil spell of Jason to turn them into weapons. With much hesitation and regret, Joseph cast the spell upon all of the dead people, thus giving birth to the avyuir—the swords made with both life and magic. The spell consumed the magic of the whole land and even extending to the sun. With all its magic drained, the once burning sun turned to the dark sun you now see. Ultimately, Joseph defeated Jason and left the battlefield with approximately 500 powerful swords to do his bidding. Joseph was never corrupted and one of his final commands was to stay dormant until we the avyuir, become faced with a person who shared his capabilities. That person is you, Kris._


End file.
